October
by mareine
Summary: AU. Severus Snape has had a hard life. Being kidnapped by a werewolf did nothing to help things. Mild RL/SS SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

_Some info before you get into the story: this fic kind of has a medieval setting, with segregation between 'nobles' and 'peasants'. Albus Dumbledore is the 'Lord' of the castle Hogwarts as well as its surrounding village of Hogsmeade. Voldemort is 'Lord' of another stronghold and its surrounding village of Hangleton. Most characters are in the places they should be (ex: the Malfoys are in Hangleton with Voldemort, the Potters are in Hogsmeade with Dumbledore), except (notably) Lupin who is outside both villages. I hesitated as to where to put Snape and Sirius Black, but eventually settled for Hogsmeade as it's easier for the storyline. Some people have had their ages changed as to not have to create OCs (ex: Karkaroff, Amelia Bones)._

**WARNINGS:**_cursing, mild gore, dub-con sexual content, slash/yaoi/homosexual relationships, ..._

_This is going to be a SLASH fic between Severus Snape and Remus Lupin. If you don't like that kind of stuff, turn away now._

* * *

The sun shone down through the clouds with enough intensity to make the completely black-clad figure sweat despite the frequent cool gusts signaling the arrival of autumn. His hair flapped around in the air, getting in his face and eyes, making him huff and jerk his head irritably like a teenager, though it didn't stop him from carefully tending to his garden. He was currently cultivating a cluster of small, strange sprouts, all made up of tiny bulbs, interconnected by hair-thin, delicate-looking stems. However fragile they might appear, the man understood that this particular plant only grew in colder weather, and was reputed for its fortifying properties, especially potent when used in potions.

After a few moments, he lifted his head, wind still whipping his hair about, and surveyed his work. Satisfied with what he saw, he pushed himself to his feet stiffly, knees sore from crouching and kneeling for so long, and went into his small cottage. It was a simple thing: made of stones and held together with Cementing Solution, warded with magic, to keep the cold (and intruders) out. The man came into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea. He removed his dragon hide gloves with some difficulty, the coldness having affected his digits much more than the rest of his body, and wrapped his long fingers around the simple mug in an attempt to warm himself. Instead, his fingers started to tingle uncomfortably and he was soon forced to put the cup down.

"Snape!" There was a muted pounding that could be heard. "Snape! You in there?"

Not in a hurry to greet his visitor, Snape took a quick sip of his tea, only to hastily spit out the too hot liquid back into the mug as his tongue and mouth were burned. A scowl now firmly set on his lined face, not so much from age but from hardship, he went out of his kitchen, sliding the door open and going into the living room, the door sliding automatically back into place, disguised as a bookshelf from this side. The pounding against the front door was louder here, as was the obnoxious voice calling his name incessantly and annoyingly. In four long strides he had crossed the room and had wrenched the door open, though not opening the wards to allow the outsider access.

"Snape," his name was said coolly, this time quieter than before, since even Sirius Black did not feel the need to shout in people's faces. An openly malicious grin split the handsome man's face. "I need something—"

"Wait for Thursday like everyone else," Snape growled silkily, and had the door almost shut before Black had a chance to react. But alas, years of Quidditch, a sport only allowed for the nobles (not that Snape would ever go flying on a _broomstick_, of all things), had honed the other man's reflexes, and he had stuck his polished boot in the doorway, preventing the door from closing.

"Now, now, Snape, don't be that way," Black said, in a tone that anyone else might have mistaken for soothing, but Snape knew that the other man was mocking him from the way his grey eyes hardened. "Where have your manners gone? Even bastards have them, I know it." Hearing the insult did not make Snape color as it might once have. He had long since gotten over the injustice of it. No, he had not asked his mother to fall in love with a noble, no, he had not asked them to sleep together and conceive him, no, he had not asked his grandparents to turn their noses at him and leave him in the dirt with his mother. When he was younger he had seen a portrait of his half-brothers and sisters in a newspaper he had stolen, all dressed finely and grouped around his father and his wife. He had asked his mother who they were, and _why is father there with them?_ His mother had gotten angry, in turn his step-father had gotten angry, and in turn he himself had gotten angry. Why was his father over with them and not with him? His mother had explained their story the next day. He had not understood right away. The children at school helped him though. _Bastard, bastard,_ they sneered, to his face or to his back, it hadn't mattered. Illegitimacy was getting less and less common, even in the lower, poorer circles. Everyone wanted to have a life resembling that of the nobles, even if was bloody impossible, given the difference in wealth. Unless you looked like one of them and got yourself to pass for their long-lost sibling, chances were you'd stay in the gutter where they said you belonged, as they kicked you further in each day.

(_Move up the social ladder, always_) Snape mused to himself. (_Even animals do it_)

Wolves for example, and the uninvited thought made him grip the door handle with more force than necessary. He did not like to be reminded of wolves.

"Snape!" Black snapped, and he was reminded that the pompous buffoon was still talking, if not to give him information, to hear his own voice. "Are you _listening_?"

"No. I'm afraid I wasn't," Snape replied silkily.

"Will you open the door?" Black huffed. "I prefer to see faces when I'm talking to people."

"You could have fooled me, with what sticking your nose in the air all the time," he replied in a half-mutter, not that he bothered hiding his opinions. It hadn't made him many friends, but he hadn't had many friends even when he had been polite.

"You're one to talk about _noses_, _Snivillus_…" Snape rolled his eyes. Another insult he didn't bother reddening at anymore. He knew it, the world knew it: he had an enormous nose. If he thought about it, it was rather probable that he had been mocked all his life more for his nose than for his illegitimacy. It made sense, he supposed. His nose was distinct (if it shrunk down a bit, people told him, the rest of his face might just be visible), and his parents' civil status rather less. 'Snivillus' was also another insult, and it stemmed from his nose. When he was younger and if he was crying, or ill, his nose would often become a bright red…_thing_ and the children would laugh whenever he blew or wiped it. _What's so funny?_ he screamed at them, not at all comprehending. _What's so funny?_

His mother hadn't understood why he had stopped going to school. _You won't get anywhere if you don't stay in school and learn, Severus._ He had laughed in her face._ It won't get me anywhere if I stay in school_, he had shouted back. _Look at you!_ It wasn't the first time he had been beaten by his stepfather, but it was the first time he had ran away. Curling up in crate next to a heap of trash, the sickly sweet, nauseating smell of garbage all throughout the night, wandering around during the day…the memories remained sharp, despite them being more than ten years old.

"_Snape_!" his name was spat once more. "I will not repeat myself again."

"Wonderful. Perhaps you'd be on your way, then." Snape pictured Black stomping his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. The image came easily.

"_Snape!_" Black stressed the word. "I command you to get me a bottle of pain relieving potion!"

Snape raised an eyebrow and, ever so slowly, opened the door. "You _command me_?" he repeated incredulously. Black remained stony. "Well, well," he murmured lowly. "If you command me, my liege, I must obey." Something else appeared in Black's eyes, and he cocked his head to the side ever slightly, like a dog. He took his foot out from the doorway and opened his mouth to speak, but received the door to the face instead. After a noise of indignation, Black predictably resumed his shouting and pounding at the door. Allowing himself a brief half-chuckle, Snape put his stoic mask back on and wrenched the door open once more, nearly receiving a fist to the face for his trouble.

"Snape! It's for Madam Potter," Black shouted, as if that would have made Snape change his mind. True, he, like everyone else, had been shocked when the son of the current Lord Potter, James, had plucked a peasant girl out of the gutter and declare that they were going to be married. She was stunning but shy, and for whatever reason the Potters had agreed to the wedding. They had suffered the ridicule of the rest of the Court, but Lily had learnt quickly, and Snape didn't think that James Potter's face could glow any brighter, or his head get any bigger. Most nobles seemed to be born with colossal heads, and therefore there seemed to be no limit as to how big they could get. When he was idle and his thoughts wandered to the aristocracy, he often wondered how the noble women managed to give birth.

"Surely your parents got you a Potions tutor, Black?" Snape said instead.

"Yes, but what has that got to do with—"

"Women with child cannot take pain relieving potions," he said firmly. "Well," he corrected himself, "of course they _can_, but the potion prevents the synapses from sending messages to each other, which is fine for them, but as they are taking for two, the child runs the risk of being desensitized. And no mother wants that, now does she?"

Black looked disbelieving. "You mean I came all this way for nothing?"

Snape looked at him sharply. "I know the Potters have a page. And I find it difficult to believe that an entire family of nobles does not know that pregnant women cannot take pain relieving potions. What are you doing here, Black?"

The man faked an innocent look. Snape knew it was faked because Black had never been innocent. "Well, I was just riding around, you see, and…"

"Save it," Snape snapped, suddenly feeling ten times more irritated. "I have no wish to hear your stories." He moved to shut the door but Black stopped it with his hand.

"Snape, wait." Black's eager face was unexpectedly in the doorway. Snape suddenly had the urge to slam the door on his head, just to see if it'd deflate like a balloon. "I… I actually came for a potion…for me."

The urge to sigh was nearly overwhelming. "What _now_?"

"Felix felicis," Black said.

Snape gave him a dry look. "It takes a month to brew, Black. And the ingredients are hard to come by."

"So?"

"So I haven't got any in stock." That, and he probably wouldn't sell it to Black. Well, not unless he was offered about a million Galleons. Black probably had that kind of money too.

He looked thoughtful, an expression Snape didn't know nobles could use. "A month, you say?" Snape nodded. "I'll be back on the front by then." Black glanced at Snape, but the latter's expression gave away nothing. He had, thankfully he told himself, not been summoned to defend the city two years ago, due to his profession. He, and the rest of the apothecaries of Hogsmeade, brewed Skele-Grow, Pepper-Up Potions, other various remedies, and to an extent, Veritserum and Polyjuice Potion, for their 'brave soldiers protecting them from evil and the Dark Lord Voldemort', at least, that was what Chief Mugwup Albus had called them. Snape personally thought that the man was going senile with age, but was happy to leave people in their delusions as long as the affair left him in peace. He had, however, been surprised that Black had joined the army, being a noble first of all (most of the aristocracy paid for replacements, so their precious little boys would not be harmed, maimed, killed), and being a foreigner second of all (his family actually came from the neighboring city, the one they were in conflict with). Snape snorted in his mind. His own mother and stepfather were foreigners, being from that same city.

No, if he was honest with himself, he was surprised the Chief Albus had allowed Black to join the army, just as, in private, he was surprised they used his potions. Black could lead them into an ambush, Snape could poison the brews… he had heard such things in the beginning of the war. But he had learned to ignore them, just as he had learned to ignore the taunts of his classmates when he was a child. It didn't matter anyway. They were all dying or being mutilated, and before that they had had dull but difficult jobs: transporting material, cleaning the streets…and some of them were without jobs at all, slowly dying in the gutter, hand out for change and mouth open in a twisted, dying croak. And he…he had his own apothecary service, and it was slowly but surely getting more recognition each day…look! Black, a man that would only have sneered at him a year or two ago for being a peasant, was on his doorstep asking for potions. Potions he didn't have, but that was not the point.

"Could you send me a bottle?" Black's eyes were hopeful.

"Afraid of dying, Black?" Snape said lowly. He paused. "Or are you afraid of getting your pretty face maimed?" Black didn't have enough time to finish his sentence ("You think my face is—"), as Snape was already continuing. "You know the army's policies about the transport of materials. If such a shipment was intercepted…well, I'd be held responsible. And I've no desire whatsoever to be accused of lending aid to the enemy."

Black regarded him for a moment. "What about Wolfsbane?" he asked lowly.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Wolfsbane?" he murmured, cogs whizzing in his head immediately.

Black ducked his head. "I meant the plant. Not the potion."

"I haven't got any."

"Ah," Black said, sounding so disappointed that Severus had blurted out that he knew where it grew in the forest before his mind could register the words and approve their going out. Black's head shot up and his eyes were wide. "Really? You could get some?"

"It'll cost you, of course." Why do something for free when you can get paid for it?

"Of course, of course." He rested his head against the door and looked almost wistful. "To protect against werewolves. I tried to grow it myself but I…" He gave a strange, self-depreciating laugh. "…it died."

"Right," Snape replied, uninterested. "I have other things to do—"

"When can you get the aconite?" Black suddenly blurted, his head shooting back up, inches from Snape's face.

"It's most potent on the full moon—"

"And when's that?"

"If you'd let me finish, Black, you might know!" came the snarled response. "It's in two days. Or nights. Whichever."

The other man nodded. "And could you deliver it to Potter Manor?"

Snape's dark eyes narrowed. "I do not do deliveries." No, he'd had quite enough of that. And he would not go out of his way to serve nobles.

"Well…" Black paused for a moment, eyes fixed on Snape's face in a way that almost made him uncomfortable. "It's alright. I'll be here on…oh, Thursday."

Snape frowned. "In that case, you could go to the market. Like everyone else," he repeated.

This, strangely enough, seemed to dampen Black's mood. "Erm…alright. Yeah. I'll be there. To get it." He murmured some more, mostly repetitions of what he had just said. Snape waited for a while, before losing his patience and slamming the door without a goodbye. He returned to the kitchen and chugged down his warm tea. Only when he had finished the mug could he hear hooves against the ground, signaling Black's departure. As he poured himself another cup, he mentally went over the list of potions he was to prepare for the war effort. A new order of Veritserum had come in. Personally, Snape didn't see the point of the army having it; who knew? If the enemy got their hands on it, along with a Hogsmeadian soldier… officially, the potion was used to force the truth from soldiers suspected of treason. And the orders always came in tiny quantities: three drops precisely. Only allowing for one interrogation. And the army could only possess one shot at a time.

Snape sighed and took a sip of his tea, only to spit it out as it burned his mouth a second time.

* * *

For the twenty-second time that evening, Snape asked himself what he had been thinking when he had accepted to collect aconite for Black. The city guards looked him over once and opened the series of warded gates for him once he had told them the reason of his outing and the contents of his bag.

(_Pointless. I wouldn't tell them if I was going to discuss plans with the Dark Lord's soldiers_)

His eyes were automatically drawn to the full moon, glowing brightly and throwing the ground into grayish light. He shivered slightly at the sight and pulled his cloak more tightly around himself, bottles clinking against each other in his action. He started walking towards the path that separated the thick trees in two bunches. He was soon deep inside the forest, and his eyes found the strange, gnarled tree that served as a marker after what seemed an eternity. He stepped off the path and stepped around the tree gingerly, as if it might suddenly rear up and attack. He continued into the forest.

Nothing was audible except for the howling of the wind and, when that let up, the sound of his rough breathing. He had just noticed a small patch of aconite and was bending over to pick it when a wolf's howl suddenly made him jump and nearly fall over in fright. The forest had gone deathly silent, even in the moments that followed the howl. Snape hurriedly scooped the plant up and stuffed it into a bag in his robes, not wanting to chance an encounter with wolves. He could still remember watching his stepfather, immobile, being torn apart by a hungry pack. He had been Stunned, he couldn't feel anything, the guards had told him later, as if that had excused their incompetence. It figured that the only people allowed to use magic and wands were either nobility or security forces. Though, he supposed, if he had had a wand on him, he probably would have cursed those fools six ways from Sunday for doing what they had, even if Igor had been tolerable at best when he had been alive.

It had started out simple. His stepfather worked as a transporter. But the farmer had taken ill and the stuff had not all been picked. So his stepfather had had to go do it. He had taken his stepson along. It wouldn't hurt to have an extra pair of hands, he'd said. So they had done it, gotten everything packed up in crates the way it should be done and they were on the road a little before nightfall.

Snape walked through the forest quickly, the combination of cold and fear making his movements jerky and clumsy. The weather now was just as the weather had been then. But back then, the fear was less present. He had had his stepfather there next to him. Igor Karkaroff, tall and muscular, a little dark, built for his job; there was no need to be afraid.

(_Do we ever _need_ to be afraid?_)

That had changed soon enough. The wolves could smell the chickens they had on the cart. Even if they couldn't, the damn things had been making enough noise to draw unwanted attention. The wolves could smell the humans on the cart. What could two do against ten? Hogsmeade's gates had been visible, but that hadn't helped them. The horse had panicked, and it was the thing the wolves had gone after first. With their momentum, when the horse had finally screamed and toppled over right into awaiting jaws and paws, the two humans had been thrown from their seats and sent tumbling in the dirt. A part of the pack had broken off of the horse to go after them.

"Stop it," Severus snapped, fear and anger suddenly overwhelming him. He hadn't thought about that night in years. How could he start reminiscing here and now, of all places? Another howl cut through the air, closer, louder, more powerful. He quickened his steps and continued on the path back to Hogsmeade.

A few moments later, a noise in the underbrush had him pausing suddenly, heart rate shooting up and hand going apprehensively to his pocket where he had stashed some mixes in case of trouble. He grasped one firmly and wondered if he should continue walking or just stand there acting like a frightened fool. He was briefly pleased that he had chosen the latter as a very large wolf suddenly leaped out of the brush. The beast would have landed on him had he not jumped out of the way and flung a glass vial full of paralysis-inducing powder at it in panic. He then took off at a sprint. A loud snarl had him understanding that he had missed his mark.

He knew instinctively more than saw or heard the wolf chasing him. Adrenaline and panic shot through him, screaming at him to go and run faster. The beast appeared suddenly at his right, snapping its powerful jaws, and Severus bolted away in the opposite direction. He regretted it immediately. Not only was he straying away from the direction that led back to the village, but he also had to go through all the dying foliage and rocks and exposed tree roots that slowed him down and allowed the wolf to get closer to its dinner.

He was tiring quickly. He wasn't used to so much exercise, he wasn't a soldier! He reached into his pockets and threw mixes behind him blindly, hoping, begging, praying that one of them would at least slow the beast down and allow him to get away with his life.

He was burning out, he knew it. And the wolf seemed to be slowing as well, keeping pace. Anger and desperation gave him a small burst of energy to continue, despite the burn in his thighs and lungs. Did wolves play with their meals? Maybe if he exhausted himself, he wouldn't feel his limbs being torn off.

Out of nowhere, he was falling suddenly. His foot had been caught someplace, and his panic increased tenfold as a large jagged rock came closer.

(_I won't feel a thing then_)

The rock smashed against his forehead and the world went black.

* * *

"Run!_" It had been the urgency in his Igor's voice that had sent his legs into an automatic sprint towards the gates. It hadn't helped. A quick snap of a set of jaws around his right leg forced a scream from his lips even as he fell and his mouth and nose were filled with earth. The wolf shook its head about, as if his leg had been a chew toy, forcing its teeth in deeper and eliciting more cries. A sudden, deafening bang sounded, birds took off from their trees, and every eye in the area was suddenly on Igor. Severus himself couldn't believe his eyes. In his stepfather's trembling hands, was a strangely twisted, shiny metal tube, smoking from its tip. It hadn't been until afterwards that he had been told that Igor had been in illegal possession of a Muggle firearm, a terrible weapon of destruction so powerful that a single pull of its trigger could kill you as easily as _Avada Kedavra_, or could leave you in unbearable pain like the Cruciatus. To use, or even to have one in your possession was considered barbaric, and it descended you to dirt, where the Muggles were._

_Perhaps that was why the guards hadn't come out from the fortress to help them, Severus had decided later. According to them, they had not known what the commotion had been, it could have just been animals fighting, and observing was to be done on the fortress wall, not at the scene. Severus had been so angry that he had tried to hit the guard, rather unsuccessfully since his bloody hand had impacted against the enchanted fabric, feeling something like metal against his knuckles, and as soon as he had recoiled, hands were grabbing him, picking him up and hoisting him over a broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He had screamed and kicked with his good leg, shouting injustice and punctuating his short sentences with all the curse words he knew. He was soon dumped unceremoniously into a cartful of hay and left there, presented with the view of the guard's back as he returned to the fortress wall. He had jumped down from the cart and promptly crumpled to the ground, hollering in agony as his weight came down on his injured leg. It seemed to be the final crack in the floodgate; one tear squeezed its way out and down his face, and he was bawling his eyes out, the pain in his hand and leg seemingly having disappeared, and the pain in his chest and heart taking over his thoughts. He simply laid there, not moving. What did it matter anyway? His stepfather was dead, and even if he didn't die of infection he and his mother would have no way to feed themselves or keep their tiny house._

_The next thing he knew, he was coming around, his eyelids heavy and his leg throbbing dully, lying on something soft and almost clean smelling. He panicked. He wondered if he had died. Died sobbing his eyes out next to a hay cart. His classmates, or ex-classmates, would be having a field day. A scowl split his face as he stiffly pushed himself up in a sitting position. He didn't need to care what his stupid classmates thought of him if he was dead. But as he looked around the room, the feeling that he probably wasn't grew._

_The room was simply but elegantly furnished, and just as big as his own house. This sent a stab of pain through his heart. He gritted his teeth and hung his head, trying to clear his mind, determined not to break down again. Opening his eyes again, he realized that his leg had been bandaged. He raised his hand and flexed it, realizing that it wasn't paining him either. The scowl disappeared in favor of a frown. Where was he? And who else was here?_

_He swung his legs over the side of the bed (a bed! An actual bed as opposed to a mattress or straw on the floor!) and tested his right leg before getting up slowly. Though it supported his weight much better than before, it was stiff and not strong enough to take the weight it normally did, forcing Severus hobble across the room to the door. He opened it slowly, putting an eye to the crack before pulling it open enough for him to slip out. A murmur of voices to his left had him freezing, and as the door opened, he suddenly found himself unable to move. A woman, obviously noble by her clothes, around 25, he'd guess, stood in the doorway, looking equally surprised to see him._

"_You're awake," she said, stating the obvious, and Severus felt contempt at her already as she tilted her head to the side slightly. "But you shouldn't be moving around on that leg," she added, a touch of sternness in her voice this time. "Back in you go," she commanded, moving towards him. He immediately backed up into the wall. She paused, her face twisted ever so slightly into an almost scowl. "I'm not going to bite you, child." Severus took careful steps backwards, eyes not leaving her figure, hands feeling against the walls, and finally grasping the doorknob and zipping in backwards, shutting the door quickly afterwards._

_He was in a noble's house?! What noble in their right mind would bring him to their house? The doorknob twisted in front of him and he leapt away, staggering slightly as he put too much weight on his bad leg. The door opened and the woman came partially in. Severus held very still._

"_Get in bed," she said. Severus didn't move. Her eyebrow raised slightly. "Must I repeat myself?"_

_Severus scowled. Typical noble, thinking their word was the law, thinking they had the right to reign over others and make their lives more miserable than usual. He inched towards the bed carefully, before letting his weight collapse down on it. He stayed stiff and scowling. The woman looked rather impatient, and looked as if she'd say something else, but she suddenly stepped aside to let a servant (obvious by her clothes) carrying a tray and something pleasant-smelling in. Severus couldn't stop himself from perking in and leaning forward to catch stronger whiffs of the stuff, saliva collecting in his mouth. The servant set the tray down on his lap and he got a look at what was on it: a bowl of soup, as large as his head, some slices of bread, and water. Impatiently, and now oblivious to his audience, he grabbed the spoon, and with a trembling hand, dipped it into the soup, and tasted it. He swallowed and eagerly went back for more._

_It soon was all finished, and the servant took the tray and went back out. The noble woman, who had, at some point, pulled a chair up next to his bed and sat down, looked at him calmly for a moment as he sat there licking his thin lips._

"_Tomorrow we'll be letting you go. Your leg should be completely healed by then."_

_Something in her words made Severus pause in his licking and observe her. Of course. He recognized her now. Even if he had never seen her personally, he knew who she was by the descriptions many gave of her; Amelia Bones, famous in the lower circles and notorious in the higher circles for the help she'd often give poor children. Famous in the lower circles because everyone there secretly (or openly) hoped that they'd receive her aid, and notorious in the higher ones because everyone there believed she was possibly deranged, and plus she was not yet married. Possibly worst of all, she, a noble of good bearing, worked! But even they couldn't say anything too bad about her since she, as well as several of her family members, worked in the Ministry branch of Magical Law Enforcement. For this same reason, if you were poor and unlucky enough to have been caught doing something you shouldn't have, singing praises to her name was customary, if not to try and better your fate, then to amuse the guards._

"_But I would like to know what happened to your leg. For my own knowledge." Meaning that she probably wouldn't go to the guards if he had been doing something illegal. Probably._

"_Bit by a wolf," he said lowly, and those four words were enough to make his heart clench and make the tears threaten to fall. His throat seized up and he bit his lip hard. He wiped his nose with his hand and suddenly in front of him, there was a hand holding out a square piece of cloth, embroidered on the edges and with ornamental letters in the corner that he struggled to make sense of. He hesitantly took it, and sniffed several times before wiping his eyes with the handkerchief._

"_What happened?" came the soft inquiry. He bit down on his lip harder. The taste of blood came to his tongue, and it brought too fresh memories to the forefront of his mind suddenly, too suddenly, much too suddenly. He leaned over and vomited. Stomach acid burned his damaged lips. A warm hand on his arm, and suddenly he was talking, the words going so fast his brain could barely register them flying out of his mouth, talking about transporting and wolves and firearms and _idiotic guards_ that had probably gotten him a place in the workhouse. He was dimly aware of a warm hand on his knee and Miss Bones soothingly telling him to calm down. He took long shuddering breaths, hands trembling uncontrollably, and his eyes blinded by tears._

_After the first shot, Igor had moved forward and pried the dead wolf's jaws from Severus, who was too shocked to do it himself. Throwing an arm around his waist and pulling him up, close to his own body, Igor ran awkwardly, supporting Severus with some effort, and his wild eyes roaming over the different wolves, the firearm following his eyes' movements. A few steps was enough time for the beasts to realize the rest of their meal was getting away and they restarted the chase._

"_Help! HELP!" Igor had screamed, the gates and the wolves getting closer with every dash. Severus could see the guards running about on top of the fortress wall. Some had their wands at the ready and were aiming. The gate opened to let a handful of them out._

"_And…fire!" Fifteen Stunners were sent their way. The wolves were agile; most evaded the spells and continued the chase, snapping at Igor's heels. Igor was bulky and panicking, only just managing to evade the red lights._

_Another wave, sent their way. That time, Igor hadn't been so lucky. Two Stunners impacted against his chest, he froze and tumbled, bringing his stepson down with him. Severus screamed. Several sets of jaws came down onto him. He was suddenly in pain, and the wolves around him were snarling and whimpering and backing off to get the easier meal instead. He couldn't stop the pitiful sounds from coming out of his mouth, he was floating in the air, he realized, but was in too much pain to try and panic._

"_Igor! Igor!" he shouted, but the other man remained immobile. "_Igor!_" It was only then that he noticed that the scene was tinted strangely, and every time a wolf dove in for a bite, when it pulled back, its muzzle was covered with…_

"_IGOR!" The magic holding him up vanished and he fell into the waiting arms of a guard. "DO SOMETHING! _DO SOMETHING!_"_

_They didn't. The leader raised his wand calmly, and Severus felt a flash of hope in his chest, which promptly went out with the uttered "Accio firearm"._

"DO SOMETHING!_" he continued to scream. Was the handgun all they cared about? A man was being eaten alive by wolves and all the guards cared about was the _firearm_?!_

_It was then, as he was sobbing his eyes out on Miss Bones's knees, that he realized that he hated Hogsmeade and their hypocrisy. He hadn't quite been at that point before, of course going to school and being bullied over the size of his nose and his parentage was a chore, watching people of higher bearing sneer down and flick Knuts to the ground just to see others scrabble and fight to get it was even more so…but he hated not understanding the reason for the guards' utter disregard to Igor's life._

"_A firearm…" Miss Bones murmured, her voice only coming out as curious rather than scandalized. Severus tried to stop the flow of his tears to little success. She regarded him for a while before saying, "You should rest some more. The potions will do what they can but it's mostly up to your body. You can lie down while Ellen gets you more stew. Try to keep it down this time." Her tone wasn't quite as patronizing as it could have been, and so Severus complied. _

_He was suddenly exhausted and feeling somewhat numb, even if his leg would give the occasional throb that seemed to go through his entire thin frame. He wondered dimly if his mother had heard the news yet._


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNINGS:** _dub/non-con sexual content_

* * *

Severus was woken up by the dull throbbing of his head, concentrated on the left side. His muscles ached, especially the ones in his thighs, and his eyelids seemed glued together but he wasn't feeling particularly inclined to open them, knowing that light would help neither his sight nor his headache for the moment. But eventually, the need to know where he was became pressing, since he obviously wasn't dead... unless one felt pain in heaven, or this pain was only the beginning if he was in hell (the more probable of the two, even if he wasn't stupid enough to be placated by the religious nonsense that the idiots in disgustingly nice robes liked to spout).

Slowly, he peeled his eyelids open. He had to blink several times because of his eyes' dryness and the predictably, irritatingly bright light coming from the cave entrance. Wait—cave entrance? He attempted to sit up, but it made black spots appear in the air and his head spin, so he tried to ease himself down but rather succeeded in collapsing down and hitting his head on some sort of cushion instead. The events of the previous day came to him.

(_Black!_) he was tempted to snarl, but somehow didn't have the energy. That blasted dunderhead of a man was the reason he was here, here in this cave, with his head being pounded at by a hammer, having tripped over a tree root!

If his head wasn't bothering him so much he would have turned over and buried his face in the cushion. The humiliation of it all!

But once the shame had let him think rationally once again, he slowly lifted his left leg at the knee and started flexing it, before doing the same with the other leg. Strange. He wasn't hurting there, except for the tightness of his muscles (he reluctantly admitted to himself that he needed to exercise more). In fact, the only place that _was_ actually hurting was his head. Which meant that he hadn't been eaten—or even bitten—by the wolf that had been chasing him. But he could have sworn the thing had been hot on his heels.

Even now he couldn't help it: with the memory, the fear crept into him as naturally as the October chill did, and when his hands started to wander in search of something to grip, he realized he was touching something warm and furry. He lurched away desperately, sitting up, making his body scream in protest and his head nearly split in two. He gracelessly lost his balance and fell over, thankfully bringing a hand down to cushion his head, not that it helped much. Someone had been taking care of him, the realization came, lurking in the back of his mind; his head had been bandaged.

When he finally got his breathing under control again, he chanced a slow look over, but saw no hulking mass with its teeth bared and crazed hunger in its eyes. Sluggishly he pulled himself back into a sitting position, and discovered that he was lying on a wolf skin.

He cautiously poked at it. Perhaps he had been rescued then? By a human? Hope spiked through his chest. Yes, yes, it'd make sense, because he would have been dead otherwise and animals certainly did not collect wolves' skins to keep warm. He licked his dry lips. He hoped that whoever had rescued him came back soon. He wanted to get the mocking over with—honestly, what kind of idiot would trip and knock themselves out while their lives were in mortal peril…he'd just have to explain that he was scared and couldn't quite see in the darkness, and well, it wasn't like he'd done it on purpose, now was it?—and he needed to use the bathroom.

* * *

It hadn't taken long for someone to appear. Severus, after having forced himself to crawl outside, wincing at the light and the cold stone against his bare feet, when the pressure on his bladder became unbearable, had taken to examining the wolf skin closely, once he had convinced himself that it wouldn't come to life and bite him (wasn't _that_ a ridiculous thought, there wasn't even a head on the thing, let alone teeth), stroking the soft-rough hairs and noting that each one wasn't quite the same color as the surrounding ones. A low growl startled him, making him nearly topple over backwards in his haste to get away. He berated himself mentally when he realized it had just been someone roughly clearing their throat, not some wild beast coming to make him its dinner (or breakfast? Lunch? What time was it?). Once his vision became focused again, he was able to lay eyes on the man standing a little in the cave, half crouched, half bent over from the lowness of the ceiling, stock still, eyes fixed intensely on his own. Severus found himself pinned in place by the force of the man's glare, forcing a swallow down his suddenly dry throat, and blinking in fear. Suddenly the man's posture relaxed enough and started creeping over cautiously, as if the (guest? Meal? Was he a cannibal?!) person he had rescued was a skittish animal.

The man was somewhat haggard looking, but Severus could see obvious power and strength in his movements. His hair was a sandy brown, dotted with a few strands of grey, and his eyes were an almost glowing amber. His approaching presence made Severus want to either flee or curl up in a ball in a corner.

The man crouched down in front of him fluidly, and his lips split. "How are you feeling?" His voice was low. He reached up to turn Severus's head to look at the left side better, and leaned in enough for Severus to feel uncomfortable. He prodded the bump with his other hand not quite gently, and Severus flinched, eyes not leaving the stranger's face. "Do you remember what happened?" Severus could stop neither the scowl nor the flush. The man took this to be an answer in the affirmative. "I haven't got all of the appropriate potions, I'm afraid. You should see a Healer as soon as you get back to your village."

"You…saved me. Thank you," Severus said after a pause, forcing the unusual words out of his dry throat with some difficulty.

"It's nothing." The hands left his head and the man simply stayed crouching, only leaning back a few inches. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," Severus said, wondering too late about the possibilities of poison, but calming once he told himself that the stranger could have simply left him in the middle of the woods to die. The man took out an awkwardly shaped stick from his clothes and waved it, a large chunk of raw meat appearing in his other hand. He offered it to Severus, who hesitantly took it, becoming uncomfortable when the man continued to stare at him after he hadn't taken a bite. He nervously licked his lips, and lifted the steak to his mouth before sinking his teeth into it, ignoring the thoughts screaming 'unsanitary!' and 'contamination!'. After a moment's difficulty ripping the piece off, he then set to the arduous task of chewing on it. Rubber would have been easier to chew, he thought to himself, feeling progressively more irritated as his jaw started aching and as the stranger's smile progressively grew wider until it was a full, twisted grin. And what was worse, the taste had faded and his stomach was making its hunger known. He finally had had enough and swallowed it, nearly choking on it because he hadn't managed to reduce its size by much. He looked at the large amount of meat still in his hands apprehensively, and looked back at the stranger, who still had that strange, annoying grin on his face. "Could I make a fire please?"

The stranger said nothing, but flicked his primitive wand at a small circle of stones near the entrance, and flames immediately crackled up in the center. Severus made his way over slowly, realizing he had no way of roasting the meat. The stranger reappeared next to him, with a sort of metal contraption, resembling blackened prison bars, and set it carefully over the flames. He took the meat from Severus's unresisting hands and set it on the metal. He settled back, sitting close and flashing Severus a brief smile. "Why don't you tell me about yourself while we wait?"

If it had been anyone from Hogsmeade asking him this question, Severus would have spat an insult in their face and told them to mind their own damn business. But as such, he reminded himself, this man was not from Hogsmeade. He lived in a cave in the forest, had his own wand (perhaps not as straight or refined as the ones he had seen in the village, but a wand nonetheless), and collected wolf skins, meaning he was powerful. And Severus was attracted to power. It was why he had stayed in Hosmeade, instead of going back to Hangleton. Albus Dumbledore was simply more powerful than Voldemort, even if he did seem to surround himself with starry-eyed idiots.

"My name is Severus Snape. I run an apothecary in Hogsmeade."

"Oh? That's great, you probably know what potions you'll need to treat your concussion, then." At Severus's nod, he continued, "How about your family? Have you got a wife?"

Severus resisted the urge to laugh in the man's face. A wife? Him? His mother had always tried to push him towards some of the neighbors' daughters, but he had resisted. They were the same girls that would tease him in school. Briefly he had thought about deflowering them all, and possibly leaving them pregnant and unmarried, but he had quickly decided he wouldn't want that for any child of his. So he had just sat in a corner and glared at them when they came too close. If that didn't deter them, his stinging words would. "No."

"Oh, that's too bad," the stranger replied, looking mildly saddened, though the look disappeared quickly and was replaced by another strange grin. "And your family? Any brothers or sisters?"

Severus shook his head. "Never had any. My stepfather was murdered by guards when I was ten, and my mother died when I was fifteen."

The stranger's eyebrows scrunched slightly. "So you've got nothing tying you to Hogsmeade, then?"

He shook his head. "Just my apothecary."

"Ah." The stranger smiled, and there was an odd little pleased look on his face. "Then…you wouldn't mind staying here with me, then."

"Staying here? With you?" Severus repeated, praying that he had misunderstood. The stranger only nodded. "Here? In this cave?" Again, a nod. "Er…no, I couldn't, I'm sorry."

The man looked like his mother had just been insulted. "Why not?"

"I…don't even know you," Severus said slowly, sensing the danger he was in and wondering about his chances of escape. With his injury and general soreness, chances were slim to none, perhaps even nonexistent if he was feeling particularly pessimistic about it.

"My name is Lupin, Remus Lupin." When Severus couldn't find anything to say to that, he continued, his words speeding up, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. "I know it doesn't look like much, but the forest really is a wonderful place to live. It gets really beautiful in winter, even if it's really cold…and even if there's less food, but don't worry, I've got plenty stocked up, I've been working all summer, and I'll continue for as long as I can…" He continued on nonsensical ramblings with his head hanging down.

Severus suddenly understood what Lupin was trying to say through his endless blathering: he was lonely. And he was desperate enough to want him, Severus Snape, as permanent company. Severus wasn't sure if he should laugh in the man's face or not. He decided not to. The man wouldn't know that Severus wasn't good company. He resisted the urge to sigh. He was going to regret this later. "How long have you lived here?"

"A year. I was forced from my other cave by a pack," he said, trying not to sound disgusted.

Severus frowned. What did he mean by pack? Why didn't he say 'group'? "And why don't you go to Hogsmeade?"

"They don't want me there."

"What about Hangleton, then?"

"I don't want to be there."

"Why?"

"I'd just be proving everyone right. They think I'm Dark."

"Why? Who's 'they'?"

"I'm a werewolf."

Severus froze in shock. A werewolf? Cold panic seized him, and he was suddenly acutely aware of his heart thudding loudly against his ribcage. The memory of Igor being torn apart flashed suddenly in his mind, and he lurched away. Lupin's head had shot back up and confusion passed over his features momentarily before saddened determination replaced it.

"Please, Severus, let me explain—"

"A werewolf?! You're a werewolf?!" Severus managed to exclaim through his shock. He scuttled away backwards as the man, the beast, advanced on him slowly. "You were the one chasing me last night! You've brought me here to put in your meat box!"

"No, no," he crooned, crawling slowly and fluidly. "I don't want to eat you, Severus. Calm down."

"You're not going to eat me? I don't believe you. Stay away from me!" he added unnecessarily when the werewolf had backed him against a wall, with only his trembling knees separating them.

"Severus, I don't eat humans unless there is nothing else around, and I've already told you I've been stocking up. And all I want is your company."

"I don't believe you!" He reminded himself once more that, even if the man was being honest, he was not a Hogsmeadian, and therefore did not know of his reputation of being a bitter and nasty recluse who only came out to sell potions by necessity.

"Why? I'm sure in time we'd become great friends."

Severus resisted the urge to scoff at him. If there was one thing he hated more than idiocy, it was optimism and friendliness. "I'm not the best of company," he said instead.

"It doesn't matter," Lupin said with an easy nonchalance, despite still being on his hands and knees.

"And I have a business to run. And with the war, people would think I'd deserted them."

"You don't really seem the type to care about what people think of you," Lupin replied matter-of-factly.

"It's not caring about what those dunderheads think of me, it's self preservation. If I've simply upped and disappeared, I'll be thought of as a traitor. I'll be hunted down and put to death!"

"I'd protect you."

"Not against Hogsmeade guards, you wouldn't! Not even with that wand of yours!"

Lupin's eyes narrowed and he suddenly came closer, snorts of air rippling across Severus's face. He suddenly realized that, with his werewolf strength, Lupin could probably crush his skull without a second thought. The thought and the werewolf's close presence made a shudder go through his body.

"What are you implying exactly?" Lupin growled, eyes and teeth flashing in a terribly intimidating way.

"I'm _saying_ that you're probably not strong enough to fight off at least five fully-trained and armored guards," Severus replied, trying to be placating, eyes lowered and fixed on the long-nailed hand resting inches away from his thigh. "Not to mention I'd be next to useless without my potions." He didn't mention that he'd be useless anyway because he had rather terrible aim.

"Don't you have a wand?"

"Of course not." He couldn't help his irritable snap. A low rumble erupting from Lupin's chest made him involuntarily shrink down into himself.

"Why?" Lupin demanded.

"It's the damned law." When Lupin continued to look confused, he explained. "Only nobles and guards can have wands. The rest of us…just don't."

"How do you protect yourself?" Lupin demanded, sounding scandalized.

"You're supposed to run away. Or die." The furious growl that erupted from Lupin's body startled him rather badly into falling over, though as he righted himself in a cautious and embarrassed way, he saw the man looked rather embarrassed himself.

"Sorry," he offered.

There was an awkward pause during which Severus tried not to look at Lupin while Lupin did nothing but stare at Severus. "So…" the werewolf dragged out, his aggressiveness seeming to have melted away. "Will you stay with me?"

"No!" came the irritated response.

"Please?" Lupin offered.

"No!"

Lupin opened his mouth again, but paused, shutting it. He re-opened it and said, "Well, you're in no state to make decisions right now, with your head and all. I feel terrible, giving you all this information while you're still ill."

Severus was about to give him a piece of his mind, but the werewolf interrupted him. "Now, you should eat. You must keep your strength up." He went back over to the fire, Severus cautiously following. One side of the meat had turned brown, and while Lupin turned it over he chattered about life in the forest and asked Severus questions about life in Hogsmeade, to which he did his best to respond objectively to. Before long, the meat was ready, and the grill was taken off the fire and placed to the side to cool. As Severus poked at the still hot meat, Lupin continued chattering away, seeming nervous.

Finally deeming it cool enough to eat, Severus picked up the meat and bit into it. It burned his fingers, but it tasted succulent. "What kind of meat is it?"

"Human."

An ominous weight settled on his shoulders. Severus dropped the meat in shock, and spat out his mouthful. He was busy staring at the inoffensive looking steak in horror when he realized that Lupin was laughing.

"I'm just kidding," he said after he had caught his breath, but Severus was still reluctant to bite into the meat again. "I'm kidding!" Lupin said earnestly. "It's deer."

Severus stared at him, trying to determine whether the man was being truthful or not. "Are you sure?" he finally drawled, feeling irritated. Lupin nodded, a teasing smile pulling at his mouth. With some hesitance, Severus started eating again.

* * *

Severus wondered if he'd be able to kill—or at least knock out—Lupin. Yes, he knew he had saved him from certain death, yes, he knew he had fed him and kept him warm, but by Merlin, could he not stop talking for a moment? He wondered how Lupin even had time to breath with all the talking he was doing, but quickly decided if he suffocated, at least they'd both be in peace.

(_I suppose it's my fault. I shouldn't have forced myself to be friendly. Especially not to a werewolf._)

"…and then there was the time where I rescued an Auror that had gotten separated from her team…"

How could he silence a creature that could kill him – or worse _turn _him – without a second thought? Severus resisted the need to sigh. Perhaps a yawn would be effective? Or a pan to the head? There was one not too far from the wolfskin. How had the werewolf gotten hold of that? He wondered if when he transformed he stayed in the forest. Surely he'd be shot down if he came too close to one of the cities' gates. And even if he did manage to attack one of the villages, wouldn't his priority be eating and infecting humans, not plundering their homes for cooking utensils?

He wondered what story Lupin would have about the pan, but decided against it. He was tired of this beast's voice.

"Lupin," he said instead, sweetly, and the man in question snapped to look at him so fast Severus wondered if his neck hurt. "I'm…tired. Could you…be quiet?" The way the words came out made Severus cringe internally, but he'd hardly had any experience telling people (nicely) to be quiet. He never surrounded himself with talkative people, and on those accidents where one thought about making him their new friend, a few chosen words was all it took to have them running in the opposite direction. But he couldn't do that with Lupin. What if he were to take offense and bite his head off…literally? He'd already seen the aggression that lurked under his farce of humanity.

But he needn't have worried. Despite the awkwardness of his words, Lupin flashed him a heartening smile. "Of course, Severus. I'm sorry. I usually don't have company, and when I do, I chase them away by talking too much!" He gave a self-depreciating laugh. "I…yes, I'll be quiet."

Severus forced himself to flash him a tiny smile back, a miniscule tugging of a lip corner upward. Lupin beamed, and Severus laid his head awkwardly down on the cushion.

In silence, Severus looked at the sloping ceiling and Lupin looked at him, something like a pet dog looks at a chew toy right before pouncing on it. (He'd seen that look plenty of times; dog whiskers were an uncommon potion ingredient, but it never hurt to have some on hand)

His eyes closed. Silence reigned between them and Severus eventually dozed off.

* * *

He was taking a walk in the woods. The forest was calm, and in turn he felt calm. A noise to the side of him had him running. Giving a glance back, he attempted to run faster. He was being chased by a pack of wolves. It was warm, too warm, and as Severus ran on, he looked down on himself and realized that he was wearing an enormous fur coat that slowed him down.

(_Fur, dog fur, wolf fur_)

Sweat was pouring off of him and the animals got louder as they approached from behind and from the sides. He was suddenly tackled to the ground from the side, but the fur and the mossy ground cushioned his fall and he didn't feel a thing.

Snarling beasts surrounded him on all sides. One darted forward and licked him on the cheek. Severus squealed like a pig and flailed his arms about in an attempt to keep the animals away. Instead, one of them leapt on top of him and licked his face all over. Severus tried to push it off but in vain.

"Stop!" he protested, and suddenly he was awake, greeted by the sight of Lupin, a human Lupin, bent over him and lapping at his face. "Stop! What are you—stop!"

Lupin back off a little, but still remained hunched over him, making Severus more than uncomfortable. "You were having a nightmare," he said, as if that explained everything.

"Were you licking me?" Severus demanded instead, a little more than disturbed.

"Yes," Lupin replied simply. They stared at each other for a long moment. Lupin leaned down and started lapping at his face again. Severus pushed him away immediately.

"Stop! Don't do that!" he said forcefully, using his voice that made children burst into tears and run away. But Lupin simply looked bemused.

"I'm trying to calm you," he said, leaning down and thankfully only nuzzling his face this time. "You reek of pain and fear."

(_Can't you smell that I'm disturbed by your actions?_) Severus wanted to say, but since the man was in such a position that he could easily tear out his throat, he stayed quiet.

"Sleep, Severus," Lupin crooned almost sweetly. "I will keep the wolves at bay."

Severus gave a quiet snort but uneasily complied.

* * *

When he woke up, he was lying awkwardly against Lupin. He wasn't used to sharing a bed with someone, but he supposed he must have banged his head pretty hard if he was practically cuddling the man, no matter how cold it might have gotten during the night. He raised himself slowly and started inching away. Lupin appeared to be still slumbering peacefully, but suddenly cracked an eye open and stared straight at Severus, who froze. Lupin regarded him some more before closing his eyes again, but Severus could tell he hadn't gone back to sleep.

"Do you know the way back to the city?" he asked.

"Of course," Lupin replied.

"Could you tell me how to get there?" Severus pressed after a moment of silence.

Lupin cracked an eye open again. "I could," he replied simply, and didn't elaborate.

"Could you _please_ tell me how to get back to Hogsmeade?" Severus asked.

Lupin shifted. Both eyes opened to look at him. "You'll have to do something for me."

(_If it's serving myself up for dinner, I won't do it_) he wanted to say, despite the apprehension shooting through him. "What?"

Lupin didn't reply. He grasped Severus by his shoulders and rolled him onto his back. Lupin's weight settled on top of him, and his worry skyrocketed.

"Hold still," Lupin said, leaning forward to lick at Severus's face.

(_This again?!_) he did his best not to panic and clenched his fists. It was as if the beast was tasting him. He shuddered at the thought.

Lupin moved down. Severus's breathing increased tenfold and he resisted the urge to scream.

"Lupin…Remus…" Severus said, petrified and hating that his voice turned his words into weak begs. "Don't…I can't."

Lupin didn't respond, just keeping his face to Severus's crotch, inhaling deeply. He lifted Severus's legs into the air and sniffed at the seat of his pants, his nails digging into the flesh of his trousered legs. He suddenly straightened and started undoing Severus's pants. Severus recoiled and hit the man's wandering hands away. Lupin looked somewhat less than impressed. Severus felt anger lick at his insides, shoving the fear to the back of his mind.

"Get off of me!" he shouted, giving the werewolf his harshest glare. "I don't want to do this."

"I don't really care," Lupin replied coolly. "_I_ want to do this. And that's what counts."

"You'll hang for this. I'll tell the guards where you are," he said, putting on a brave face even if he was almost certain of his inability to cow this man.

"That's only if you manage to get back to the city. Which you can't do without my help," Lupin said coolly, but his voice was starting to get rough. "Now… you can either do this for me or you can wander the forest, lost and just waiting to be eaten." Severus stared at him stonily. "Hurry up and decide. I've got a prick that needs sucking."

"I won't let you do this," he said resolutely, his face stone.

"I'll make sure you have a good time, Sev," Lupin said, in a tone that could possibly be described as sensual. He leaned closer, and their rough lips met.

* * *

_Madame Bones kept him in her house, as promised, overnight. Severus found himself awake well into the wee hours of the morning, despite his exhaustion. The candle he had kept lit next to his bed threw the shadows into activity. The creaks of life outside the house resembled the sounds of the forest. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Igor's flailing and bloody body._

_Logically, he refused to allow his eyes to shut any longer than it took him to blink._

_And that is how he found himself moving gingerly around the house – or was it a manor? – peering in whatever rooms he dared. He wondered briefly if he'd be bold enough to steal a golden vase that looked valuable, but hobbled away empty handed._

_He soon found himself in the kitchen, not that he had recognized it as a kitchen at first. Everything was too nice, too white, too clean. Not to mention the room was enormous. He went over to the cold box and found several kinds of cheese. Peeking around, he decided that cheese was nothing like golden vases and therefore, a small piece wouldn't be missed._

_He wandered some more, and against his better judgment, he found himself in the cellar. The illuminated torches had him discovering a potions lab – an actual lab, instead of potions materials in the corner of the kitchen – that left him breathless. The room was easily twice the size of his own house, with cauldrons stacked neatly in a corner, and shelves with labeled jars covering the walls._

_Looking around at the ingredients, he noticed lavender, valerian, and other herbs and ingredients that were necessary to brew a Sleeping Draught. He shrugged to himself; he wasn't falling asleep on his own._

_He set to work brewing. It was a recipe he knew well, his mother taking it regularly, despite it being addictive._

_At one moment, the potion needed to simmer during 70 minutes. Severus entertained himself by trying to remember the properties of each ingredient against the wall. He plucked up a jar that contained what might look like dead cockroaches and accidentally knocked over another jar full of dead things._

_The explosion of glass against the stone floor might as well have been the sound of a firearm going off. Severus had leapt back in fright, his spine smashing against the edge of the wooden table. The ensuing silence was deafening. Not two moments later, someone was thundering down the steps. The door burst open and hit the wall noisily. Wand-light momentarily blinded Severus, who threw an arm over his eyes._

"_Don't you move!" a rough voice barked. The light came closer, and an enormous hand seized him by the collar. "What the blazes are you doing down here, boy?"_

"_Nothing!" he lied, unable to help himself, and cursed himself not a moment later. Whoever this was, manhandling him, had undoubtedly seen the fumes spiraling up from the cauldron._

"_What are you brewing?" The hand gave him a shake that lifted him off of his feet._

"_It's none of your business!" he cried, and did his best to fight back._

"_You dirty little liar!" the man roared. "What is this? Some sort of poison? An explosive solution? After all the Lady Bones has done for you, this is how you repay her?" Severus shook like a ragdoll._

"_I'm not trying to hurt her! Put me down!" he shouted, and flailed, managing to slap the man in the face several times._

"_Alastor!" Severus had never been more relieved to hear a noblewoman speak. "Put the boy down immediately!"_

"_But, Madam—"_

"Immediately_."_

_Severus was roughly set on his feet. The wand light came away from his face, allowing him to see Madam Bones's bodyguard. His face was a crisscrossing of scars, a piece of his nose missing. One of his eyes was brown while the other was electric blue, made all the more frightening by the harsh wand light. His mouth was set in an ugly sneer and it was easy to tell that he didn't consider Severus worthy of the bottom of his shoe._

_Madam Bones had moved over to the cauldron, her own lit wand held aloft and gave it a few, delicate sniffs. She turned towards Severus, a neutral expression on her face. "What's this you're brewing?"_

"_Sleeping Draught!"he said, somewhat reluctantly. If she asked him to reimburse the ingredients, it'd take money he didn't have._

"_Where's the recipe?" she asked, light moving over the table, not finding any written instructions._

"_I know the recipe," Severus replied grumpily. Just because he was poor, didn't mean he was stupid._

_Madam Bones looked at him, an interested look coming to her face.  
_

* * *

**A/N:** not happy with the ending, but oh well...


	3. Chapter 3

**WARNINGS: **non-con, slash, ...

**A/N:**yes, this was supposed to have come out last week. Sorry!**  
**

* * *

Lupin leant towards him slowly, tantalizingly. Severus leant backwards, looking away desperately. Lupin's lips meant his cheek, then moved down to his neck, feeling soft and very rough at the same time. Severus staunchly refused to give him his lips. The werewolf was tugging at Severus's rag of a shirt, his hands burningly hot against his skin.

"Take this off," he growled, "or I'll rip it." Severus reluctantly pushed himself into a sitting position and even more reluctantly removed his top. He had no desire to reveal his thin – almost scrawny, really – and pale torso. Luckily, or perhaps he should have taken it as some sort of insult, Lupin didn't seem to care for his appearance and promptly starting feasting on him as if he were a starving man.

The attention to his skin was rough, in a foreign and almost tingling way. But Severus couldn't concentrate on the pleasure, if he could call it that. He needed to get out of there before Lupin suddenly went feral. Who knew if his saliva might have adverse effects on him, even if he might seem human enough at that moment? He shifted to the right. Anything to get away from that persistent tongue and those relentless lips. Lupin let out an unpleasant sound at his movement, but otherwise continued his exploration of Severus's body.

Lupin was getting at his trousers now. He paused to get another sniff of Severus's crotch. Seeming satisfied, he started clawing impatiently at his buttons.

Severus shifted to the right again.

"Stop moving," Lupin snapped, gripping his hips and giving him a hard glance before returning to his task. Severus stayed still for a moment, and then reached out, doing his best to be discrete. His heart was hammering against his chest, as if to beat its way out. His fingers curled around a smooth wooden handle. He swallowed loudly. With all his might, he lifted the cooking pan in the air and brought it down on the werewolf's head.

Lupin gave a loud, startled yelp, letting go of Severus to clutch at his head. "What was that for?!" he exclaimed, straightening and looking wildly bewildered. Severus slammed the pan against his head a second time, only receiving another yelp from a still conscious Lupin.

"Stop that!" shouted Lupin, reaching a hand out to stop him. "Put that down—"

Clutching the pan with both hands now, Severus kicked him in the chest. A surprised whoosh of air left the werewolf. A third hit to the head with the metal pan knocked him unconscious, and Lupin collapsed onto his hips. Severus gave him a fourth hit for good measure, the pan now trembling in his grip. When the werewolf didn't move from where he was lying, he finally exhaled a sigh of relief. The pan fell from his slackened grip onto the wolf skin. Rolling the beast off of him, he quickly buttoned his trousers and grabbed his shirt from where it had been tossed. Lupin gave a raspy moan. Severus quickly put on his shirt and left the cave.

The forest was almost pleasant during the day. Almost. In his haste to get away, he had left his boots in Lupin's cave. Dirt and dead leaves were already digging uncomfortably into his feet. But who knew how soon the werewolf would wake up, if he wasn't stirring already. Severus hurried, dead nature rustling noisily under him. Who knew… perhaps the beast was already conscious, already out of the cave, prick already out of his pants… His heart pounded and a chill settled into him. He whirled around, breath held, one hand balled up in front of him, wishing he had kept the pan to defend himself.

Nothing was behind him. He turned around and hurried away.

* * *

He later found himself wandering the forest, lost, scared, and very thirsty. His feet were sore, and possibly bleeding, but he didn't have the energy to bend down and look.

He wondered briefly if he was delirious. Every tiny sound the forest made had him jumping two feet in the air and flailing around in panic. He wondered if he should shout out for help. He wondered if there were crazy hunters in the woods like Lupin had described. But he had nothing to fear, did he? He wasn't valuable. Well…certain potions did call for different human vital organs—

"Hey! Hey you!"

He possibly jumped a foot in the air. He couldn't help the shriek from coming out of his lips and immediately fled in the other direction, screaming.

(_HUNTERS_)

He heard the man cursing somewhere behind him, foliage being crushed under his booted feet.

(_I'm going to die oh Merlin I'm going to be harvested for my kidneys and brain tissue_)

The man was shouting something else. Severus paid him no attention. He ran as hard as he could. Dirt and roots hurt his feet but he paid them no mind. An enormous hand clenched around his puny bicep and jerked him to a halt.

"_Snape!_" the man roared. He screamed and was spun around. The hand he had raised to defend himself was caught in an iron grip. "It's _me_, Snape!"

Severus gasped for breath and tried desperately to calm his frantically beating heart. "Oh," he managed after several long moments of simply staring at the man in horror. "It's you."

Black frowned at him as the adrenaline seemingly evaporated out of him and he slumped against Black. "Are you OK?" he asked unnecessarily.

"No," Severus said, voice surprisingly calm despite his bodily tremors. "…you idiot."

Black looked at him dryly. "Looks like you're feeling better already. Come on then; let's get you back to the village."

He raised his wand, and Severus felt worry shoot through his tired body, and uttered a spell. A large dog, made of a wispy, silvery mist, erupted from the wand tip and immediately Severus felt calm and – dare he say it – a feeling of safety go through him. The misty animal ran excitedly in a circle before standing in front of Black.

"I have Snape. Regroup at the extraction point," he said to it, and the silver dog bounded off into the trees.

He tugged and Severus had no choice but to follow.

* * *

Black was getting irritated with him, Severus could feel it. As if it was his fault he'd been attacked by an amorous beast. Why not blame him for being scared for his life as well?

"Come on, Snape. I can see you're hurt. Let me carry you."

"No," Severus said stubbornly. "I see no reason to allow you to humiliate me."

"You're humiliating yourself," Black snapped irritably. "You're going to get an infection, possibly even lasting damage if you don't get off your feet."

"No," he repeated.

A low huff and a moment's pause was the only warning he had before he was suddenly swept off of his feet and into Black's arms. "Black! Put me down!" he shouted, trying to wiggle out of the humiliation of being carried bridal style, even if his feet throbbed.

"You're pretty light," Black commented casually. "If I didn't know better, I'd say I was carrying a girl."

Severus could feel an ugly flush creep up his cheeks, and a twin flush of mortification throughout his body, and he slapped Black. The guard didn't react beyond a cool look. Severus hit him again, and this time he received another look. "If you don't stop, I'll tie you up."

Severus froze. He couldn't interpret the look Black had just given him. A caustic remark was on the tip of his tongue, but he pressed his lips together. No need to blacken his reputation further by arriving at the village in shackles.

Black continued walking, only having to adjust Severus's weight a few times. For his part, Severus didn't enjoy Black's rocking movements or the fact that Black could drop him on his bony arse at any given moment. Granted, that moment would probably be in front of his guard friends to better humiliate him –

"Sirius," a far too familiar voice rasped out from behind them. Black turned immediately and looked surprised. Severus felt as if he'd been dunked in ice water and he felt his fingers involuntarily gripping tightly at Black's clothes.

"Remus," Black said, sounding amazed.

"Put me down," he said lowly, and when Black didn't he jerked at his clothes roughly. "Put me down, Black!" he repeated, trepidation in his voice.

Black glanced at him, looking as if he was going to refuse, but took a second look, worry etching itself on his features. Carefully, Severus was set down and he bit back a wince as his swollen feet hit the dying foliage.

Lupin was standing stock still, chest steady and eyes bright. "Severus—"

"No," he said immediately. His heart pounded against his ribcage. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He stepped carefully behind Black, hardly able to believe his own desperation.

Lupin's expression drooped, before becoming neutral again, a hint of hardness to his eyes.

"Remus, you can't stay here," Black said, and Severus looked at back of the man's head incredulously. They knew each other?! And Black was trying to protect this beast?! "There's a search party nearby waiting for us."

"I'll be quick," Lupin said, flashing a cool smile. "I just want Severus."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, werewolf!" he hissed vehemently. He couldn't believe the beast's nerve.

"You can't take him, Remus," Black said firmly, and Lupin gave him a hard look. "We came out to find him, and the group knows I have him already."

"I'll knock you out if you like," Lupin offered, not unkindly. "You can just say I came out of nowhere and attacked you."

Severus grabbed Black's bicep. "Black, he tried to rape me," he said lowly, and Black tensed. His arm came out to herd Severus behind him further.

"Is that true, Remus?" Black demanded, body tense, muscles clenching and unclenching in his arm.

Severus couldn't see Lupin's expression, as he was being held protectively behind Black. "I couldn't help myself," he said, sounding forlorn. Severus's temper spiked. How dare he feel sorry for _himself_, of all people?!

"You filthy bastard of a beast –" he started, moving away from Black's back, about to tell Lupin _exactly_ what he thought of him, but Black's arm shot out and he was stopped, though in this position, he could see Lupin's blank face, fixated on him.

"Leave, Remus," Black said, voice colder than anything Severus had ever heard from him. "And stay away from Snape. I won't be held responsible if you get caught."

Lupin said nothing, still staring at Severus. Some moments later, when it had been established that Lupin wasn't going to walk away, a gentle push on the small of his back had Severus backing away, then turning slightly as Black led them away. Severus wasn't comfortable having his back to Lupin, and it seemed as if Black felt similarly, as he kept glancing at Lupin's immobile figure behind them, as if the beast might go feral and attack.

Lupin eventually faded from view, even if Severus trepidation hadn't. The search party came into view, a bunch of guards babbling to each other, wands out.

"Men!" Black called out, and there was a flurry of movement as several wands pointed in their direction. "Here's our favorite Potions Master." There was plenty of guffawing at that, and Snape gave them a harsh scowl that had them trailing off uncertainly. "Let's get out of here," Black said, lighthearted mood reappearing in an instant. He swept Severus up again, triggering another series of guffaws, seemingly unaffected by the hateful look sent his way, and he led the party out of the forest.

* * *

(_perhaps I'd been better off being fucked by Lupin_) Severus mused to himself. They had reached the city. The guards at the gate had stopped them and were escorting him instead of Black and his cronies. The air felt thicker with hate and prejudice already. He had caught wind of something like 'trial' and 'can never be too careful'.

"Black!" he called. The man turned to look at him blankly. "What is he talking about?"

"Treason!" somebody shrieked from the rapidly forming crowd, and he turned to look in that direction in surprise.

Something soft and rotten hit the side of his head. Tomato dripped down his shoulder. Severus could feel it seeping into his hair and clothes, the powdery texture trickling down his ear. He looked at the angry face with shock, and turned back to face Black, only to discover that the man had disappeared. He gritted his teeth and blocked the noise from the grouped villagers from his mind, the pain in his feet and the tight grip of the guards on either side the only things grounding him to the _now._

He lamented his sort. He was a fool. He should have gotten away from Lupin earlier. He had been away from the village too long, and here were the consequences.

They were marching him towards the castle, towards the dungeons. He had tried his best to stay away from Hogwarts; the last time, he had been briefly imprisoned as well. He hadn't actually minded the place, the cool stones were pleasant to lean against during the summer, but the place was crawling with nobles and guards. Severus wasn't sure which kind of person he hated more.

The villagers had been gradually shooed away, and Severus was placed in a cell.

* * *

"Severus."

He looked up immediately, despising the spark of hope that had appeared in his chest. If it was a guard they would have called him by his last name, or something derogatory.

It was a sorrowful Black.

"What are you doing here?" he asked sullenly, the spark of hope imploding into nothingness.

"You're under suspicion of treason. I'm sorry."

He gritted his teeth. Fury welled up in his chest. "I suppose nothing screams traitor more than being forcibly kept in a cave overnight."

"They don't know the details. You'll have to tell them."

"Why didn't you say something? They'll never listen to me."

Black shook his head, his handsome features twisting in unhappiness. "I can't. I'm sorry."

He stared at him in disbelief. "And why not?" he demanded, falsely sweet.

Black continued shaking his head, and it was a while before he spoke. "What would I say?"

"You'd say that you rescued me from a werewolf! Is that difficult?!"

"He didn't actually want to hurt you," Black said miserably, looking as if he was trying to convince himself.

"Of course he didn't," Severus sneered in response. "He simply want to take me against my will. I can't imagine how that wouldn't hurt." There was a pause, during which Severus glared holes into Black's bowed head, and Black stared at the floor. "I don't know why I expected you to help me anyhow."

Black hunched into himself. "I not going to…not do it because of me."

Severus didn't have to fake his snort. "Don't lie. The only reason you won't defend me in court is because you're afraid of being associated with that beast. You're too dense to realize that this needs to be done. He's nothing but a filthy mongrel that needs to be put down!"

"He's not!" Black snapped defensively. "I knew him before he was bitten. We were best friends."

"I don't believe you," Severus said acidly. "A stuck-up rich boy like you? Friends with some peasant?"

Black had turned red by then. "I don't care if you don't believe me. It's true."

Severus laughed humorlessly, his seething rage escalating into plain fury. "You're meant to be a Hogsmeadian guard. You're meant to represent law and order. I know people hate it, but I am a Hogsmeadian citizen and I fall under the law's protection. But I suppose that doesn't matter. As long as your precious mutt is safe, roaming the wilderness and attacking innocents. You're the entire goddamnned reason I ran into the bastard in the first place! You and your damned aconite! The least you could do in return is capture the damn beast!"

Black really did look furious now. "Don't mock me. Don't mock Remus either. I came to bring you to your interrogation."

"No, you came here to humiliate me."

"You're just impossible," Black snarled, and opened the cell door. Black reached in and grasped him by his arm again, hauling him out of the cell and down the hallway, ignoring his shouts of pain.

The trip to the interrogation room was too short and too long all at once. Guards were all along the path. They were checked several times; Black for his security clearance, and Severus for weapons.

The room was small, sterile, and cold. There was a single rectangular table and two chairs on either side, facing each other. Black directed him to a chair and left the room. Another guard stepped in but did not sit down. Severus breathed evenly. He knew that he would be kept waiting for a while, in order to make him nervous. He checked his feet while he waited. The bottoms were red and swollen and very painful to the touch. He had several cuts; most of them were still open and he did his best to get the dirt out of them.

The door opened and Severus immediately shifted his attention to the man that had just stepped in. He was utterly stern-looking, with hard eyes and a toothbrush moustache. By his sumptuous purple robes, he was a member of the Wizengamot. Two other men, also in purple robes followed him in. One looked like he might belong to the Potter family; he had the signature messy, dark hair.

"Severus Snape?" the first man asked, and sat down in the remaining chair, a stack of parchments set onto the table in front of him.

"Yes," Severus replied simply.

The man looked him up and down, seeming unimpressed. "Hogsmeade citizen, but your parents were both from Hangleton," he stated, shuffling through the papers.

"Yes," Severus repeated. He was quite familiar to this approach.

"You miss it over there?"

"I left when I was six years old. I haven't gone back since."

"Do you want to?"

"No."

The man looked up from his papers to glance at Severus, who kept his face blank. "According to the gatekeepers," he read, "you left the village at precisely 8:09 on the night of the fourth of October, stating that you were leaving to collect ingredients, and presenting your Potions license. Your bag contained one pair of shearing scissors and five glass vials of varying sizes. You were escorted back to Hogsmeade at 11:43 on the sixth of October. This constitutes an overstay of 34 hours and 34 minutes on the allotted time allowed for Potions Masters to leave the village for business purposes."

Severus frowned. Was he here for treason, or breaking Potions Master regulations?

"That's more than enough to suspend your Potions license. However, I'd like to know what you were doing outside the village."

(_The truth will set you free_) one of the religious nuts had told him once. He had rolled his eyes then. He rolled his eyes now (internally. Wouldn't want to give them any reason to doubt him) but he'd give it a try.

"I was held prisoner by a werewolf."

"A werewolf?" the man repeated, unconvinced.

"Yes."

"Did you know this werewolf?"

"No."

"What did this werewolf want with you?"

Severus's lip curled. "He wanted to take me against my will."

"Take you where? To Hangleton?"

"No, he wanted to rape me."

The man gave him a look. He was undoubtedly evaluating his attractiveness, or lack thereof. "I don't believe that."

"It's the truth," Severus said, refusing to feel offended. "Use Veritaserum if you like."

"Why waste precious brews on insignificant scum like you?" sneered one of the other Wizengamot members, the possible-Potter.

"If I'm so insignificant, why am I being interrogated?" he countered, sneering back.

A sudden blow on the side of his head had him reeling, his senses swimming in blurriness. He hadn't had anything for his concussion. Dimly, he heard footsteps as the guard returned next to the door.

The man in front of him sighed irritably, slowly coming back into focus. "Why don't you tell me everything that happened to you, starting from when you left the village on the fourth, to when you returned on the sixth."

Severus snarled in pain and clutched at his head. He told them everything.

* * *

After the interrogation, Severus had been tossed unceremoniously back into his cell. He had immediately crawled onto the mattress, lumpy and thin, but still more comfortable than the floor. He had done his best to get some rest, but sleep eluded him. Sometime later, he had no way of telling how long, a guard had fetched him and had brought him back to the interrogation room, where he was again made to wait.

His main interrogator strode in arrogantly. "Good news," he declared, taking a seat. "You're not going on trial for treason after all."

"That's good," Severus said neutrally, though internally, he was relieved. Being guilty of treason was an immediate death sentence.

"Your Potions license is being considered for revocation. You will have to appear before the Wizengamot on the twelfth of October."

"That's fine."

The man fixed him with a scrutinizing glare. Severus mentally slapped himself. Never say anything is _fine_ when you just slipped out of being prosecuted for treason! "Fine, is it? I suppose it's a small price to pay in exchange for avoiding execution by werewolf."

Severus was certain his face blanched. "What do you mean, 'execution by werewolf'?" he managed to ask evenly.

"I mean exactly that," the man responded coolly. "Why waste time and energy executing you by _Avada Kedavra_ when you can simply be fed to a werewolf."

Severus raised an eyebrow, mentally congratulating himself on his hands not quivering. "He wasn't going to eat me," he said lowly.

"Wouldn't really matter," the Wizengamot member replied flippantly, and the guard came forward to grab him by the arm and escort him out.

His jaw clenched. Of course it wouldn't matter what happened to him. It wouldn't matter if he was boiled alive or brutally raped, as long as Hogsmeade was kept free of traitors and other people that were looked down upon. Somehow, he found himself surprised that he hadn't been put on trial for treason, and deemed guilty, and given to Lupin. Who knew if the raving beast wouldn't attack the village in his hunt for Severus, and turn poor, innocent, and actual law-abiding citizens into similar raving beasts? The village's fear of werewolves was…excessive, to say the least. When a person was bitten by a werewolf, they were allowed the next lunar cycle to collect their belongings and conclude their life in Hogsmeade. The few days preceding the full moon, they were put out, forcibly if necessary. Contact with them was generally forbidden.

He was put in his cell for perhaps a few hours, and then the guards came and threw him out of the castle, literally, and he landed unceremoniously in a muddy puddle.

* * *

"_Of course I know other recipes," Severus harrumphed. "I'm not completely stupid."_

"_No one said you were stupid," Madam Bones said exasperatedly. "Tell me the other recipes you know."_

_He listed them for her. They were all relatively simple to make, and the ingredients were easy to come by._

"_And you brew them often?"she continued._

"_As often as we need them."_

_Madam Bones looked interestedly at her bodyguard, Alastor, who looked back, his horrible face making his neutral expression seem all the more unpleasant. "Do you go to school, boy?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And you help your mother out at home after school, I suppose."_

"_Yes."_

"_Is there a day your mother could spare you? I'd like for you to come back here…"_

_Severus was immediately wary. What use could he possibly be to a noble? Target practice for her overzealous bodyguard? He glanced at the man and received a growl in return. It sounded so animal-like that he couldn't help his shudder. Could he be a test subject for developing poisons? No one would miss him if he went missing, except for his mother. With his stepfather's death on top of his own, he imagined his mother wouldn't be…happy. His throat tightened. Dimly, he wondered if his mother had been told of Igor's death yet. He wondered if she wondered where her son was, if he'd been eaten alive as well._

"_Boy!" Alastor's gruff voice frightened him out of his thoughts and he couldn't help his audible gasp. "The lady is speaking to you."_

_Severus looked at her again. "What did you say?"_

_Madam Bones repeated herself, enunciating carefully. "Is there a day your mother could spare you? I'd like for you to come back here and brew some things for me."_

"_Why?" he demanded, not expressly coming off as rude. "Plenty of other people are better at it than me."_

"_I'll pay you five sickles for every potion you successfully complete," she offered._

_Severus paused. On one hand, any money he could get would be beneficial, especially since they had just lost their principal source of income. He bit his lip. On the other hand, the offer of money only made him more suspicious. Sure, he'd be cheaper than any professional or even apprentice Potions Master, but he knew what horrific acts people did for money. Money made people go crazy, money made people dependent on others. He'd be forever (or at least a very long time) in Madam Bones's grasp, until he finished his schooling and got a proper job. He sighed._

"_Fine."_

_And it was that simple word that sealed his fate._

* * *

_Working for Madam Bones was not as terrible as he had imagined. He was not chained to a wall being force fed dangerous concoctions. He was not being forced to scrub at filthy cauldrons. He was not forced to sort goopy and thoroughly unpleasant ingredients. The only trying thing he had to do every time he left was kiss his crying mother several times and reassure her that he wasn't going to do anything that would get him into trouble._

_Well, that was a lie. The guards that patrolled around the rich quarter liked to shove him and deny him access because he looked like riffraff. It wasn't his fault that nice clothes cost more money than he might make in a lifetime. So he had to taunt the guards, make them lose their tempers until they tried to attack him. Then he'd scurry away, and take the long way around to Madam Bones's residence. Often, the guards chasing him would holler out and call for other guards to intercept him. Sometimes he managed to avoid them. Sometimes he didn't._

_This was such a week where he hadn't managed to dodge the guards. He was being hauled backwards, kicking and screaming, back to the district wall. He was dumped unceremoniously in a mud puddle, gasping in disgust and filthy water soaked through the seat of his pants. The guards guffawed in front of him, and other villagers had stopped to watch. Red clouded his vision, and his heart hammered in his ears. Humiliation and anger coursed through him. He launched himself at the closest guard._

_He knew what would happen. His head and hands hit the enchanted fabric. His ears rang shrilly as the guards shouted. Hands were on him. He gripped the robes firmly, staunchly refusing to let go, screaming in frustration as those huge hands pulled harder on him. The material was slipping from his fingers. His legs felt like they might be torn off._

"_Stop that immediately!" a feminine voice exclaimed from somewhere behind him._

_Well…that marked the second time he had been happy to hear a noblewoman speak. And it was Madam Bones, followed by her ever trusty Alastor. What a pleasant coincidence (well, not seeing the horribly deformed bodyguard)._

"_I demand you put the child down immediately," she said sternly, advancing on them. Alastor outdid her look effortlessly, his limp only adding to his threatening aura._

"_Madam!" one of the guards, the one he had done his best to attack, protested even as his comrades were putting Severus down. "The boy attempted to force his way into the district without authorization. He is now disrupting public order," he added, sneering down at the peasant boy._

"_Severus," the lady said exasperatedly, "what did I tell you to tell them?"_

"_I did…the first time. They didn't believe me."_

_Madam Bones's jaw clenched minutely, then turned her attention to the guards once more. "This boy is my guest. You will allow him access whenever he presents himself."_

"_Or course, milady. If he'd just told us that, this all could have been avoided."_

"_Yeah, sure," Severus muttered._

"_Quiet, boy!" another guard roared, reaching out to slap him._

"_Don't you dare!" Madam Bones snapped. The guard drew away immediately. "If any of you touch the child, I'll have you fired," she threatened. She looked over each one of them until she was satisfied by their comprehension. "Come, Severus."_

_Yanking his clothes into place and ignoring the sopping wetness of his pants, he followed Madam Bones into the district. Turning slightly, he almost laughed at the bewildered expressions on the guards's faces. He stuck his tongue out at them and continued behind the noble lady and her bodyguard._

_Several hours later, Severus was ambling home, smiling cheerily at the grumbling guards as he passed them, the weight of fifteen Sickles heavy in his pocket._

* * *

**A/N:** reviews make me so happy! :)


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